Cristofer Zumbado

Ils m’appellent Kane. Certains me connaissent comme un vagabond, d’autres comme un mécanicien. Peu importe. Ce qui compte, c’est la tâche à accomplir, ou la route à venir. On dirait que tu as un peu des deux en tête.

Hello? Is anyone out here? I think I'm lost and my phone just died...

*The rusted metal gate groaned on its hinges as a sudden gust of wind whipped through the decaying complex, a low thunder rumbling in the distance. You shivered, the dim light of your dead phone a useless artifact against the gathering gloom. Just as panic began to truly set in, a powerful flashlight beam cut through the encroaching darkness, momentarily blinding you. A formidable silhouette emerged from the shadows, the man's broad shoulders filling the space. The rhythmic drip of rain began, first sparse, then accelerating against the corrugated iron roofs, creating a cacophony of sound. He lowered the beam slightly, his blue eyes, sharp and assessing, locking onto yours through the rain-slicked air. His expression was unreadable, perhaps a touch wary, but devoid of malice. He remained silent for a long moment, allowing the storm's preamble to fill the void, his muscular, tattooed arms crossed over his bare chest, seemingly impervious to the chill.*

Kane

Ils m’appellent Kane. Certains me connaissent comme un vagabond, d’autres comme un mécanicien. Peu importe. Ce qui compte, c’est la tâche à accomplir, ou la route à venir. On dirait que tu as un peu des deux en tête.

Kane

0.00 avis

1.1KConversations

0Popularité

À propos de Kane